


Little Girl Lost & Deadshot

by writingramblr



Category: DC Cinematic Universe, Suicide Squad (2016)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Drabble, F/M, Feels, Gen, Insanity, Post-Movie(s), Speculation, joker is an asshole, protect harley always, protective deadshot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-02
Updated: 2016-06-02
Packaged: 2018-07-11 17:05:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 744
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7061791
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writingramblr/pseuds/writingramblr
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Floyd accidentally finds himself becoming overly protective of the craziest and blondest member of the newly formed team of Criminals...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Little Girl Lost & Deadshot

**Author's Note:**

> because Will Smith and Margot Robbie have mad wicked chemistry and im a problematic piece of shit???
> 
> yes.
> 
>  
> 
> also go watch focus its great.  
>  xoxo  
> and i love amanda don't get me wrong i hope she survives the movie.  
> but i feel like joker may kill everyone we love.
> 
>  
> 
> i wrote out boomerang's dialogue imagining Jai's Australian accent like from the trailer im sorry

He’s heard what they’ve said about her.

He’s heard her from down the hall, through the doors, her screams echo in his ears.

But she wasn’t always like that…

Floyd can think of times when he wasn’t defined by what he did also…

But now he, and all the others are just a list of names and skills, rattled off by one Rick Flag as they’re presented to him like shiny new weapons in an armory.

The girl… certainly looks harmless.

She’s beautiful of course, despite the madness they all say haunts her.

She wasn’t always…mad.

She grins wide and her eyes gleam and she’s happy to see them all, as happy as they are not to be in cages anymore.

She pulls many an eye when she’s getting all dressed up in her fishnets and red and blue and tight little shorts…

And he’s staring too, he won’t deny it.

She’s far too hypnotizing…

He doesn’t dare try and threaten Flag if anything or anyone tries something stupid with her or to her…he doesn’t know where this sudden protective streak has comes from.

But it’s like, now, here, seeing the one and only Harley Quinn in the flesh, he realizes something, even if he doesn’t make it out of this, suicide mission, he hopes she does.

He’ll find a way to make sure she does.

*

“So what’s your story hot shot?”

Her voice is syrupy and high, flowery and cooing all at once.

Floyd is unsure just what to say, but before he can reply, Boomerang, once known as George, butts in where he isn’t wanted.

“He’s the best assassin you’ll eva see darlin’. He’s shot guys from two miles off, dead center to the skull. He’s almost better than me at direct hits.”

The appreciative look in his eye only disgusts Floyd.

He doesn’t want that man’s praise.

Harley meanwhile almost has a far off look in her eye, as if remembering a dream or something, before she’s back, eyes clear,

“Ooooh Honey that must mean you’re gonna be doin’ the hard to hit bad guys, while us guys on the ground manage cover fire.”

She winks in the direction of Flag, but he’s ignoring her, listening to something his samurai sword wielding bodyguard is saying.

Floyd shrugs,

“I dunno anything yet. But don’t worry, I’ll always have your back.”

He means it, he finds.

She may not understand it. But when push comes to shove, he’s going to be looking out for her.

 

*

There’s a maniac running around this town.

Floyd’s not seen him yet, but he’s heard the cold laughter that could only come from a broken mind. The problem is, Harley sounds very much the same, just higher.

When the building they walk into turns out to be a trap, and there’s a circle of purple and green colored grenades lit to explode, Floyd’s grabbing Harley around the waist before anyone else and yelling,

“RUN!”

The gang follows easily, as they’d been pretty tight knit of a group, and the fire guy, El Diablo, Floyd remembers, actually throws up a wall of protective fire to combat the shockwave from the bombs.

It kind of works.

In the end, Floyd’s aiming his scope at Harley’s chest, as she swings on a rope, getting further and further away, but he can’t do it.

He can’t kill her.

He should have.

Should have put her out of her misery.

Saved what was left of her original self.

But it’s too late.

*

Later, he asks her.

Asks Amanda when he’s got a gun to her head, why, why did she do it?

“Because it was what the world needed.”

That’s not good enough.

Before Deadshot lives up to his name, he asks one more question,

“What happened to her? Little girl lost…Quinn.”

Amanda gets a sad smile on her face, and her eyes drift away from him,

“She was dead before she ever got to that prison cell…he got to her…Joker. He destroyed her…drove one of the most brilliant psychiatrists of our time out of her mind for fun…and look what it got him…a half dozen fools bent on revenge for the pretty face they thought could love them.”

He resented that.

Even if she was right.

He pulled the trigger, and felt a little better.

His stomach still turned at the thought of Harley in that monster’s hands.

This fight was far from over.

*


End file.
